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I never know when or how a song is going to end. I do know it has a way of bending. the end of the beginning bends to the beginning of the end. it’s something that eludes formula and analysis. I can’t tell you how many times I have sung “loss,” and how often it was “love” that…
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the only place an artist really exists (and can forever) is in the imagination of other people. you exist there the way they want you to. of course, other people never want exactly what you want, and see things the way they do. (though secretly i wish for someone to see me exactly as i…
cookie nieves 